


I loved a maid as red as autumn

by Queenofthebees



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, F/F, Pining, Supposedly unrequited love, book canon, rarepairs swap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 13:01:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14853243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenofthebees/pseuds/Queenofthebees
Summary: She remembered what Sansa had said weeks before, when she had trusted her enough to confess her truth.“Nobody will ever marry me for love. All they want is my claim.”I would marry you a thousand times over.All I would wish to claim is your heart.





	I loved a maid as red as autumn

The Eyrie was considered dull to some, with the endless rugged mountains and grey mist that swallowed everything. But Mya loved it all the same.

She belonged here. The mountains were steady and unwavering, just as she was. She knew her place in this world, she knew where she belonged.

Alayne was too pretty for such a world, she never would belong here like Mya did.

But Mya loved her all the same.

When Mya looked into her eyes, she imagined that it would be similar to looking at the sea. Her laugh was infectious and Mya had wanted to hate her half as much as she loved her when she heard how Harry had begged forgiveness for his rudeness. Mya wished she had had the charm and beauty to have Mychel beg her forgiveness half as easily as Alayne had won Harry.

“You will make a pretty bride, my lady. Harry will surely love you well,” Mya stated the morning that Harry officially accepted the betrothal. Alayne’s mouth barely twitched, her eyes dropping away from her reflection when Mya caught her gaze.

“Nobody will ever marry me for love,” Alayne sighed sadly, her fingers toying with her necklace.

_Only a fool couldn’t love you._

She wondered if her father had not been such a wandering bedwarmer, would she have these shameful urges towards the woman before her?

“We’re friends, aren’t we, Mya?” Alayne asked suddenly.

“Of course,” Mya replied instantly.

“My name is not Alayne,” she whispered. “It is Sansa Stark. I am the eldest daughter of Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn.” Her sad smile was back, her eyes lowered in acceptance of her words. “Nobody will ever marry me for love. All they want is my claim.”

Mya blinked. She felt the corners of her lips twitch as she thought that of course Alayne – _Sansa_ was a trueborn, noble woman. Her manners had always been too perfect, her look too elegant for a bastard girl to pull off. Even the betrothal to Harry made much more sense now.

“Why would you tell me that now?” Mya asked softly.

Sansa’s gaze pierced straight through her, her sweet smile distracting Mya enough that she almost missed her response.

“I trust you.”

***

Winter made the Eyrie bitterly cold and particularly bleak. Grey and white swallowed all the land in clouds of mist and snow. The keep was colder than Mya could ever remember.

But Sansa’s bed was always warm.

“Will you come to Winterfell with me?” Sansa asked one night as they lay facing one another. Mya smiled sadly.

“What would I do in Winterfell?”

“Keep me company?”

“Careful,” Mya teased but it seemed rather ineffective when her own eyes couldn’t help but count the freckles across Sansa’s nose. Her voice was lower than she intended as she whispered. “Your husband may grow jealous.”

Mya noted to herself that Sansa’s cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink and she bit her lip adorably when she was embarrassed.

“He isn’t my husband yet.”

_If only he never could be. He could never deserve you._

***

Sansa wasn’t hers. She would never be.

She supposed that until the wedding, Sansa wasn’t Harry’s either.

But Mya still couldn’t understand how that could explain how she came across him with another woman when she had come around the corner from the washhouse.

She had felt such rage on Sansa’s behalf that she had thrown her pail of water on the pair and scampered before he could turn and see her.

When Sansa had barely reacted but for a fluttering of her eyelashes, Mya realised that she wasn’t surprised at Harry’s betrayal nor was she upset. It was as though it had been something she knew would happen. The rage had only curled tighter around her heart then. Who had betrayed this woman so much that she practically _expected_ people to hurt her?

“Call it off,” Mya insisted. “He doesn’t love or respect you!”

“I’ll never go home if I don’t marry him.”

Mya knew little of the world outside the Eyrie. But Sansa had spoken of Winterfell and the North. Mya had met her mother once but she hated how talking about Catelyn made Sansa sad. Still, in their moments, she had talked about her siblings. Robb, Bran and Rickon were dead as far as she knew and her sister, Arya, was missing. Her half-brother, Jon Snow, was Lord Commander of the Nights Watch.

Even if she could write to Jon, her only family she knew to be alive, what could he do? The Nights Watch took no part.

“It shouldn’t be this way,” she whispered. Sansa smiled sadly.

“If only life were a song.”

She remembered what Sansa had said weeks before, when she had trusted her enough to confess her truth.

“ _Nobody will ever marry me for love. All they want is my claim.”_

_I would marry you a thousand times over._

_All I would wish to claim is your heart._


End file.
